Lies Will Become You
by My Thyla My Captain
Summary: Whilst eluding the nobility on the night of the Gala of the Gods, Loki meets a blind stable hand. For one who couldn't see, she saw more than most, though she knew not of his identity. For once he was seen without the shadow of his brother, and in turn an odd relationship befell the servant girl and the prince. LokixOC *Set before & during Thor/Avengers*
1. Chapter 1

"Brother! This game has long since grown tiresome; show yourself and release me from this maze!" Thor demanded with exasperation, running through the labyrinth of manicured shrubbery with a huff. The corridors of mountainous hedges loomed above his figure, the young boy coming to a crossroad that turned into a split street. Neither, once again, withheld an end in sight, so the youngling simply decided to pick the path to the right and bolt. Thor gasped as the borders began to shift before his eyes, causing his heels to dig into the earth to stop his drive, his blond locks whipping his face as he swiftly turned to see the movement behind him to be the plants weaving together to form a wall. For the fifth time, the game changed once again.

The demi-god growled; puzzles and riddles had always been mastery for Loki, whose wit and magic could quickly solve the brainteaser, but was one of the few places Thor's brute strength could never provide the upper hand, and it infuriated him. He should have known that he was walking into a trap that would only end with his embarrassment at his brother's hand the moment he suggested a battle of wit against his younger kin. He and Loki may have their differences, but when it came down to it, he was envious of his younger brother's intelligence, though he would never lead a soul to believe the thought. He always brushed off the notion before it could take root.

A quiet chuckle was dealt, ricocheting like a phantom through the green pathways as the ebony-haired boy turned from a corner, a smirk tugging at the edge of his thin lips. His mouth turned up into a mischievous grin as the look of anger flashed onto his elder brother's features, his emerald orbs glittering like a predator on the hunt. "Given up so easily, brother?" he mocked, his light steps disrupting the gravel beneath his feet as he sauntered, his hands clasped behind his back as he inspected Thor like a teacher would a student.

"Every time I come close, you change the play!" Thor snarled, his palms thrusting against his younger brother's chest, Loki's breath rushing from his lungs as he flew to the ground, the rocks scattering as his body made rough contact with the terrain. The boy winced as his sight was blinded by the sun, which set itself dangerously high in the sky. Oh, they were going to be so late…

He made out the outline of his elder kin as he lay windless upon the ground, Thor's build towering over him and blocking out the burning star's searing light. He saw a hand extend in apology to pull him up. "I meant not to harm you, brother." As soon as the black haired prince regained his wind he took the aid, but instead of pulling himself up, he heaved Thor down with all of his might, his brother landing beside him with a _'oof'_ and a rustle of scattering debris. The blond glared at Loki as the latter began to laugh at his brother's foolishness.

"What was that for, Loki?" he growled as he slowly regained the balance upon his feet, only to find his sibling not only upright, but leaning against the wall of foliage in a sly manner, manually picking the pebbles that lodged themselves into his palm. He threw the tiny projectiles carelessly at Thor, who only grew more agitated.

"Because you are an oaf, my brother. For where you excel in strength, you lack greatly in wit. For example, you engaged me in the battle of brains, though you lack them so severely, forgetting fully that we were to meet with father about the gala with the god and goddesses today." A look of realization and horror swept onto Thor's features, his eyes peering at the skies with shock. When his gaze went to rest upon his brother once more, the boy turned to misty green smoke, leaving Thor in the middle of the changing labyrinth with anxiety.

-X-

The young handmaiden walked through the maze with simplicity, her hand guiding her as she calmly stroked her soft digits across the rough shrubbery, mindful not to prick herself on the bush's sharp thorns and the leave's razor edges. Her head tilted to the nearby grunts of agitation, and chortled quietly to herself; did they not realize what puzzle they had wandered into? Anger and rushed movements would serve them ill here.

The fabric of her attire snagged upon one of the stray branches that extended only enough to catch her, the youngling turning stiff when she heard the gentle tear of cloth. She sighed, tugging at the textile lightly to free herself, spinning on her heel to continue without a second thought; at the rate of the feral words and rushed patter of steps upon the ground, the maze would not stay in this state for much longer. After turning a corner she heard a small intake of breath as her body came into view, suppressing the urge to smile as she knew that her quest had come to an end.

"Anger and rushing tasks in which should not be rushed leads you no where here, or truly anywhere in life, so I suppose that is the lesson of this labyrinth." She spoke softly, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she heard the erratic thrumming of footfalls cease. "Now, may I ask, who is the unfortunate soul that has wandered into this abyss of confusion, hmm?" she asked politely, cocking her head as the patron's breath returned to normal. She bristled when she got her response, her coy grin wiping from her features.

"Thor Odinson." Came the booming response. She gasped, bowing her head and retreating in the slightest bit, her movement disrupting the earth beneath her heel. She knew that he should have been in the castle, preparing for the feast tonight with the gods and goddesses - not here in this web of confusion. In all truths she should have been at her post and she was sure she'd be punished for fleeing her task on such an important occasion, but she could not pull herself away from the agitated calls of distress emanating from the gardens.

"Please, milord, forgive me for my rude manner! I spoke too freely. I meant no disrespect!" She whispered, trembling, fearing that she had angered the future ruler of Asgard. She relaxed in the smallest amount when she heard his hearty laugh.

"Do not worry yourself; you did not earn my anger. Tis a question, though, as to why you do not know me, though I don't recall seeing you around the castle." The statement was simple and matter of fact, but it was still enough to bring a deep flush of embarrassment to her cheeks, her eyes never peeling from the ground.

"I-" her reply was cut short when he groaned.

"Another day you may answer; for now we must make haste from this prison." She shook her head gently, making the young lord grow all the more impatient. She quickly justified her action.

"You cannot move too swiftly, milord, or the paths will change once again. There is an enchantment upon the grounds; if one is too excited or brash in their actions, the borders will shift. If one is calm and collected and thinks through their movements, the exit will make itself clear." She explained, turning from the prince to retrace her earlier path. She could hear his footsteps as he followed her down the winding trail, Thor silently hating how she could maneuver this sorcery much simpler than him, battling hard to keep a level head.

"What be your name?" he asked in attempt to keep his mind from dwelling on how much of a blow his vanity was taking today. There was a small pause before she spoke.

"Alina, my lord. I tend to the stallions." She whispered, her head hanging low as if scanning the ground for answers. Thor gritted his teeth; not only was he out witted by his brother, but also mere servant girl – both within the same day.

"We speak not of this." The prince spoke swiftly, the girl not much younger than himself bowing her head in a silent confirmation. He cocked his head in her direction, examining the maiden with curiosity; her gaze had not ripped from the gravel they traveled upon since his first announcement and he was unaccustomed to the eyes of young lasses not peeking to him with blushes budding upon their cheeks. His stormy blue eyes narrowed, battling as he fought his feelings.

She was beautiful, for a _servant _anyways. Her russet locks fell into loose ringlets that cascaded to the middle of her back, bouncing gently from her smooth movements and the occasional breeze that was able to break through the green barriers. Her small, delicate hand swept over her emotionless expression to remove stray strands of hair from her faerie-like features, the appendage not yet rough and calloused from years of coarse work. He remembered seeing her eyes from a distance before they were cast down; her orbs were the color of the sky on the most glorious of mornings when the sun only began to peek over the horizon and the atmosphere emanated the most beautiful shade of light blue.

He was so engrossed in his examination that he almost missed her announcement that they had arrived at the entrance. Snapped back into reality he looked up, seeing that, indeed, they were to the beginning of the maze, turning back to his counterpart with a smile spreading wide across his lips.

"Thank you, Lady Alina." He said sincerely, walking cautiously from the mouth of the labyrinth, the handmaiden following soon after.

"You better make haste now, milord." But Thor was already running from the spot before her sentence could be completed, leaving the girl to go back to her tasks, dreading the penalty she would receive.

-X-

To say Loki was surprised to see his elder kin arrive beside him in the banquet hall was an understatement, though he refused to show the shock that clawed at the back of his mind. He flashed a quick, playful smile as his brother paraded through the room with a huff, the servants scrambling after him in a desperate attempt to assemble his ceremonial garments as he continued to move, not seeming to notice their need for him to halt. He rolled his eyes as Thor's winged helmet was placed upon his head; he loved his brother dearly, but he hated how careless he was to others in his fits of rage.

The servants tore off after assembling his armor, escaping back into the shadows to do their remaining work while the blond boy stood beside his ebony-haired sibling, situating the large helmet bestowed upon his skull to its correct position. Loki couldn't help but suppress a snicker as the flickering glow of the candles radiated beams of light from their helmets, more so upon the winged tips of Thor's headdress, leaving faint specks of light to dance upon the polished stone walls when they moved their craniums. Thor's head snapped to the side, glaring at his brother, who couldn't help but laugh as his brother's untailored hat moved from its correct position once more to have the object spin, leaving half of his face to be shrouded in the silver metal.

"I think they made a helmet to match your ego, not your body brother. You should have come earlier to have it fitted correctly. I was almost worried you wouldn't come." Loki teased, a growl emanating from beneath the ceremonial piece. Thor situated the helmet once more to its proper position to glare at his comrade. With a snap of his nimble fingers Loki shrunk the size of the headdress to fit perfectly to his elder brothers head. When Thor was about to retort, Loki held up a hand to silence him. "We couldn't have you looking like an oaf in front of the nobles, now can we?"

"Oh yes, because that helmet is doing wonders for you, brother." Thor mocked, Loki's hands instinctively moving to grasp a golden antler protectively in each fist.

"Well at least **_I_** do not look like a defenseless bird." Loki hissed, though the venom was missing in his tone. Thor placed his hands over the wings of his helmet, hiding the color creeping onto his cheeks.

"Well at least I do not look as though I belong **_on_** the feasting table, instead of parading around it." The elder shot back, a grin teasing at the edge of his lips. Loki couldn't help it; he cracked a smile and soon he and Thor were rolling in laughter at their foolish accusations, several domestics whizzing past the pair to light more candles that floated graciously around the chamber. Their fun was a raucous, echoing through the grand room to only make their mounting sounds louder, though neither of them truly cared.

Soon their laugher turned to breathy sighs as they rearranged their paraphernalia, making sure it was in the correct placements and everything was in order upon their body. Green eyes peered to their left as Thor removed his headpiece, staring at his reflection with a blank gaze. Loki's smile faltered at the sight, moving the two steps to his brother's side to place a gentle hand upon his broad shoulder. The blond didn't respond, causing the black haired boy to speak up.

"What troubles you, brother?" he asked gently, glaring at the prying eyes of a stocky woman who had peered over to see the commotion. At his steely gaze she flinched, her muddy orbs flickering back to the table to set out the golden platters that sat neatly beside the silverware. Emerald eyes stalked back to the sight of his brother's set jaw, his icy blue eyes never evading his own image.

"What if they don't like me, Loki? What if I make a fool of myself?" he asked seriously, the pressure he put upon the helmet within his grasp teetering on the verge of leaving dents. His thoughts were ripped apart when he heard the snort of his brother beside him, causing the demi-god to look at his comrade, whose slender brow was arched with an air of astonishment. The latter shook his head, the beams of light sparkling from his helmet as he laughed, though no humor was put into the action.

"Of course they'll like you brother. You are the future king of Asgard, are you not?" Green eyes fell to the floor, which Thor noticed immediately. "You will make a great king one day, Thor. I am sure of it." Loki whispered with sincerity, his elder unable to do anything but believe his kin's word.

"I know I will." Came the strong reply, and Loki rolled his eyes; give his brother a compliment and he just ran with it. Thor clasped his brother on the back, the slender boy nearly falling forward from the might, his air once again forcibly leaving his lungs. The blond laughed as his sibling straightened, silent daggers stabbing at him through those deep green eyes, the younger rearranging his helmet from its catawampus position. "And one day you, brother, will be one of the most powerful sorcerers the Nine Realms have ever seen. Though if you trap me in that mind bender again, you **_will_** be mounted upon the wall like the stag you are." Thor teased, Loki letting out a breathless sigh.

"I will take that as a compliment."

-X-

Though the armor weighed at least thirty pounds, he was told to act as if it weren't there, breathe easily though the breastplates pressed heavily against his lungs, and pretend that the weight of the helmet did not make his skull and neck throb with torture. No; he was to sit erect, smile, speak when spoken to with utmost respect, and eat when the food was served. No matter the amount of mess the other gods created, he wasn't to laugh; it was rude and improper.

Loki sat idly beside his brother, staring at the mountain of food that adorned his plate blankly, knowing that in all of Valhalla he would not be able to consume the feast that rested in front of him in this one sitting. His eyes crawled to his sibling, who tore into the mutton as if he hadn't eaten in a century, filling his cheeks to the highest capacity and somehow still able to smile when their mother commented on his appetite. He knew for certain in that moment that the wings that shimmered proudly on either side of Thor's head should have been those of the ears of a swine. Loki suppressed the urge to bust out into a fit of giggles at the thought of his brother as a pig, choosing instead to keep his face neutral and passive.

He sighed, the action restricted by the armor, making him wince in response.

"Why are you not eating brother? You need to put meat upon your bones; sorry to say that you are looking quite meager in my presence." Thor whispered with a sly grin, Loki looking onto the blond with hidden disgust.

True it was that he paled in comparison to his older brother, by Asgardian terms anyway. He lacked the muscles that Thor was already beginning to produce upon his frame, missing also the thirst for action that Asgard smiled upon in a young prince. His appetite was not as ferocious as those around him, and although he was the son of Odin, he felt as though most of the time he was in the way, more being put up with than actually accepted amongst his peers.

"Perhaps I may look meager, but at least I do not act like a gluttonous pig." He muttered beneath his breath, his elder rolling his sea-blue orbs. Thor's attention was swiftly pulled back to the food on his plate and the young goddess who had spoken to him.

The droning buzz of conversation and laughter filled the hall completely, the sound causing the marble floor to vibrate in the smallest amount. Loki could feel the gentle tingle through his foot, watching the dazzling smile of a stunning goddess as she laughed at something her red-haired companion had said. Her sound was muted by the noise in the room and his gaze shifted to the high ceiling, watching as countless candles floated majestically above their heads.

Did none notice the beauty that danced gracefully above them, the flickering flames showing the glistening flakes that etched themselves into the stone above them with brilliance? A quick glance at the feasting gods answered his question; none were aware of the beautiful glory that flew overhead, all too captivated with their food or another to notice its loveliness.

His green eyes peered to his father, who smiled at a god by his side, and then to his mother, who was speaking to a being so beautiful he had to look away to keep a blush from rushing to his cheek. Thor was engaged in a talk of great battle with a god who had had his fair share of glorious combats, his brother listening intently as the being spoke with fervor. None spoke to him, and in so he did not speak, though he secretly longed for another to even acknowledge his existence beside his family. Everything seemed to be happening around him, yet he was not engaged in any of it at all, feeling alone though the room was ready to bust at the seams.

He realized then that he felt this way more often than not, always cast aside when Thor came into the scene. He loved his brother dearly, but he wished at times that he would not show off his strengths, knowing full well that Loki could not compete with his brute power. He sometimes desired he was an only child so he need not be shrouded in the shadow of his brother's impending _'greatness'_. He longed to have companions who liked him for him, not because they were Thor's friends and only called him as such because he was **_there_**.

He simply wished to be himself, to talk of what he wished to talk about without the thought of persecution and dissecting eyes. He wanted the patrons around him to notice the flurry of light that dazzled above their heads, for them too to notice the beauty in which they were blind to. He wanted someone to talk to him with a pure smile and enjoy his presence, not having to feel obligated to speak with him! He wanted to scream, to throw the garb from his body and breathe with ease!

But instead the young prince sat in stony silence, pretending the breastplates his not crush his air supply. He sat erect and began to eat the food in which he was served, acting as though the helmet didn't make it hard to crane his neck to look around the room. He did not laugh while his brother ate like an animal, nor did he pay attention to the gods who chortled and joked.

And most importantly he did not speak until he was spoken to, plastering a fallacious grin upon his features while he sat alone in a room filled with people.

-X-

At the first sign of escape he made his flight, telling his mother he felt ill and that he'd take his leave to his chambers. The Allfather wasn't the happiest in the turn of events, causing a suspicious eye to peer him over until he finally allowed the boy to leave. Loki felt guilt mull within him under his father's scrutinizing gaze, but he would rather be alone than in a room filled to the brim of people who paid him no mind. With a small bow of his head he made his leave, Thor exclaiming a sendoff before he was whisked to the ball room by a couple of blond young maidens.

Music echoed through the vacant corridors as the prince walked soundlessly, concentrating fully on banishing the ceremonial garb from his frame. He had taught himself the trick from an old scroll that was bound in a thick layer of dust that he had almost passed over in the archive a few days back, the ancient paper crinkling beneath his grasp when he had first discovered the yellowing literature. The parchment was filled with simple, yet useful spells one could use daily, and he thanked the gods for letting him find it. With a few more tries he would be able to master the technique to the point where it would take but a thought to transform into a new wardrobe.

When the last of his helmet dissipated from existence he sighed in relief, thankful to be rid of the nuisance, patting away the wrinkles of his black tunic. He smiled at his handiwork, praising himself in silence as his lungs expanded to their full potential once more, the magic still fizzing at his fingertips. Of course no one was there to revel in what Loki considered a triumph with him, but it didn't really matter to him; no one would get the same thrill from the action as he himself.

He debated on weather or not to go into the study or back to his room as he said he would; he was not yet ready for bed and his mind was still racing from the power that flowed through his veins. He wanted not to be troubled by anyone, and the book keeper never left his post - even on occasions such as this. He growled inwardly, knowing that an invisibility enchantment would do him no good for he had not yet mastered it, only being able to keep up the façade for but a few minutes.

The dark prince ghosted through the halls, not yet knowing of a destination until he passed a look out, his feet bolted to the floor as he admired the scenery of Asgard beneath the white hue of the two full moons. Once again the patrons at the gala were missing a work of beauty; the moons were ever only both full once every hundred years. He did so like to go for a ride in the dead of night, though all the times he had done it his mother had been unaware, and decided with a smile that he could not pass up the opportunity on such a lovely evening.

He lurked in the shadows as he made his way through the castle, making sure not to draw any unwanted attention toward himself. He raced down the magnificent flight of golden steps, nearly losing his footing in his haste before reaching level ground. Though he knew it wasn't necessary, he cloaked himself invisible as he passed soundlessly through a pair of guards, more out of practice than use. He let the fallacy fall as he was out of sight and hearing distance, mutely opening the ingress which led to the stables.

He had always been fond of horses, thinking them majestic and free willed, each having a different outlook and personality. Some were calm and easy going while others simply liked to rile up the other mares. Seeing as though the servants were out, tending to the needs of the gods and goddesses, Loki relished in the opportunity, walking without a need to cloak his footing.

Enok, a large black stallion, had been his choosing since he was but a colt. The horse was rebellious to most, save for a few handmaidens who cared for him and Loki, who the mare knew almost instantly as his companion. Whenever he had moved close to the stall the steed would walk instantly to the portal, greeting him with a small whinny at his approach. He smiled, turning the corner to-

"Who's there?"

He froze, his right leg suspended mid-air to keep from making any further noise, his eyes darting frantically to find the origin of the voice. It was a female, the pitch high yet smooth, though no matter where he looked a young lass could not be found. For a moment he thought he had imagined it, brought on by nerves until it spoke out again, the prince deciding to hide beneath the invisibility enchantment for as long as he could.

He heard the wooden portal to Enok's cage creek open as a girl withdrew from the passage, her small frame dwarfed beside the mountainous midnight stallion. The horse rested its heavy head upon her shoulder, nudging affectionately into her heck as she absently drew her slender fingers across his muscular jaw, her head tilting in various directions. Enok huffed, his nostrils flaring when she withdrew her gentle caress to tuck a stray auburn lock behind her left ear.

"I know you are here. There is no need to be in alarm. I have no weapon, unless you find a grooming brush dangerous." Her giggle resonated like bells in his ears, sweet and pure and completely intoxicating.

_'Well… It's only a girl. I'm sure I can persuade her to keep quiet._' He pondered absently to himself, placing his foot upon the straw-coveted ground. Her head whipped to the sound of the disturbed foliage and Enok threw his head back in annoyance of her action, only to move his position to her other shoulder.

"Shouldn't you be filling the glasses of the gods and goddesses?" Loki questioned as his enchantment failed at his lack of complete concentration, leaving him exposed. A sparkle fell into the mare's eye as it gazed upon the ebony haired prince, lifting its head to trot slowly to his side. Unlike the others, this handmaiden did not bow a greeting, instead choosing to lift a hand across the horse's side as it waltzed past her, her fingers tracing delicately over its dark, glossy coat.

"I would create nothing but chaos, I'm afraid. And I was told I would be left alone this evening. So why have _you_ fled _your_ post?" she asked quizzically, baffling the son of Odin. Did she not know who he was? And if she did, how dare she have the audacity to speak to him in such a manner!

_"Excuse me?"_ he hissed, Enok slowly pacing backwards as the prince stalked his way toward the girl who stood her ground with an air of defiance. Anger seethed within his glare as he tried to lock her eyes with his to no avail, her cloudy blue gaze looking right through him as if she didn't see him standing but two feet in front of her.

_'Wait…'_

"You bicker at me about not being at my post, though I am, while you are the one slacking in their responsibilities!" she growled, petting the ribcage of Enok as he slowly took his place beside her once more, his tail flickering at the tender touch.

"You're blind…" Loki whispered, watching the look of shock and pain register upon her features before she flinched as if she had been struck, turning into the horse to evade the gaze she couldn't see. Her shoulders trembled and guilt flooded over him as she batted at the empty air before she caught Enok's reigns, leading his stallion back into the spacious pin.

"And what if I am?" she muttered bluntly, putting down the latch to secure the door to the stall, turning away from the prince.

_'She doesn't know who I am…' _A smile replaced the sneer upon his face.

She didn't know who he was. She would speak to him as if he were just another servant - an equal. Though the frustration of being an equal to a domestic infuriated him, the potential of this experiment was unlimited! There would be no barriers to her thoughts, no fear of punishment between them, no need for formal words and presentations.

He could be himself in front of her.

"I meant not to upset you." He whispered, walking to her side, watching as her body tensed at his proximity. Loki placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder, the maiden loosening at the touch, the smile creeping further upon his lips. "It's just that I haven't seen you before, so-"

"They couldn't find a fit placement for me." She whispered sullenly, shrugging his hand from her shoulder, turning slowly to face him. He was thankful she couldn't see the blush that rose to his cheeks; though he was a prince, he was still shy in contact with one of the opposite gender, nobility or not. His eyes fled to the ground as she continued. "I cannot do many of the tasks that are expected of me here. The stables are confined enough to where I can maneuver with ease and the animals – thank the gods – have taken a liking to me. If not for this, I probably couldn't keep my stay at the palace. I'm more of a burden than a help most days."

_'That is something we have in common.' _He thought to his chagrin, returning his gaze to the maiden before him.

"What is your name?" He had to remember to keep the sharp edge of his regal voice from seeping into his tone, to keep it a simple question and not a usual command. Her head cocked at the small hesitation in his voice, those glassy orbs looking through him as if she were searching for something.

"Alina." She said finally, fidgeting, unaccustomed to speaking with someone for such a long period of time. Loki smiled.

"My name is Erik."

* * *

How was that?

Please review on the bottom and have an awesome day!

~ILJA~


	2. Stables

It was a week since the Gala of the Gods, the days drudging dreadfully slow in their wake and leaving Loki restless in the aftermath. The ancient scroll sat unread in his lap, his fingers tapping the couch beneath his body impatiently, his eyes staring into the far off horizon as the sun was sinking below the shimmering sea. He growled, unnerved by his lack of concentration, his thoughts always dragging him back to the night of fallacious friendship – if he could even call it **that**.

He tried to thrust the deception to the back of his mind, keeping the thrumming of his heart steady as he deduced the entire encounter as a moment of weakness - it wouldn't happen again. He was a prince, and to have even the most mundane of relationships with the help was widely frowned upon. The last thing he wished for was to bring shame to his family, especially his father.

He grasped the yellowing parchment tight, tossing his legs over the edge of the languid furniture and rose to his feet with grace. With utmost care he replaced the frail literature to the spot he had just raised from, turning on his heel to pace around his chambers.

The jade floor intensified the beat of his measured steps, the solitary sound reverberating through the silent chamber like a howl of agony. His gaze flickered to the golden moldings that bordered the ceiling and ground, tracing every groove that flowed elegantly down the ebony pillars that carved themselves from the walls. He even watched his reflection stride manically from the polished green floor, trying desperately to rip his thoughts from verbal freedom.

Everything, he told himself, was fake; his freehearted words and laugher meant nothing and in time he was sure it would become nothing more than a dream to him. She was nothing more than an outlet of mischief, there to wreak deception and lies upon until he felt satisfied. All of his unjustified emotions of that night had played out into that con, and now he was going to play on his foolishness.

He was, after all, the young god of mischief and lies.

* * *

No matter how much Asgard put up the modern front, all knew behind the layers of valiant warriors and golden towers that sinister activities still bore on in the house of Odin. Most put up with it because of their undying love to their king, while the remaining few were too cowardly to bring their revolt into fruition.

She thought only once of telling them her whereabouts on that day, thinking of releasing the story of how she had found the young prince Thor in the maze and save herself from her punishment. She had only bitten back the words because of one reason alone; she valued trust and honor of the word above all else. She had agreed to the future king that she would tell no one of the incident, and so she had followed through on her promise.

One servant delaying her tasks would usually serve no penalty, but on a day as important as the Gala, all nerves were on high end. Everything was to be in order, and if even a toe was out of line, the action taken would most likely be three lashes from the whip. This punishment was also used to coax the thought of evading ones tasks from other domestics for any day.

The throbbing ache still lingered when she was forced to move, but not as much as it did when the lashes had first been inflicted. No; that was unbearable, and somehow they still expected her to carry on with her tasks after her punishment. Of course she did, never once screaming when the whip ripped at her delicate skin, not uttering a sound as she finished her night without a qualm.

Alina fell to her knees as she searched sightlessly upon the straw-coveted ground, her hand tracing blindly for the brush she had dropped in her tremor of fear from the thought. The whip cracked within her memory as her digits hunted for the groomer, a flinch tremoring through her being. By the time she felt the tough bristles of the brush a solitary tear had made its way down her pale cheek, leaving a damp trail in its wake.

She quickly dabbed at her eye, gritting her teeth. Whenever she was enraged the tears would spill from her eyes, betraying her true emotion. She hated crying because it made her feel weaker than she already thought herself to be - only frail, useless beings cried. She had already heard the comments of her lack of help from those around her, not one riling up in her defense. She was already counted out due to her handicap; how could she keep up with the busy pace of the palace and pull through her duties without help or messing up?

Anger now seethed in the placement of phantom pain, her nails digging into the elegant wood of the handle, leaving crescent indentations in the regal molding of the object. Before she could think through the action the object was propelling through the air as she threw it with an irritated huff, the grooming utensil snapping as it met with the wall. Her breath was ragged as rage boiled in her blood, the young maiden hardly mindful of the whinnies from the horses that were startled by her brash action.

"You've got quite an arm." A voice muttered dully, the creek of the door filling the air as the action from the horses faded into quiet snorts.

She froze, her frame paralyzed in her awkward position upon the ground, her blood running cold. Her head whipped around to face the origin of the voice, her body trembling as her sightless eyes peered into her never-ending darkness. Of course she knew who it was, but the looming thought of pain suppressed the grin that wanted to crawl onto her features.

"Erik! I-I didn't mean t-" His smooth chuckle cut her response short, her tense body relaxing at the sound. Foliage crinkled softly beneath his gentle steps as he swiftly glided the few feet to her side, the handmaiden memorizing the way he walked. Erik's footfalls were rhythmic, moving in a pattern that was almost like a waltz; every third step was fractionally louder than the previous two.

"Don't worry. There are duplicate brushes specifically for instances such as this. Accidents happen." He said coolly, his voice betraying any knowledge of the incident he had witnessed. She shook her head, knowing full well that they were to report all occurrences to the head housekeeper, even if it would cause a punishment to be cast.

"You know as well as I that we are to report all wrongdoings. If not, where would our integrities lie? Where would-"

"So you would rather receive a penalty for something none would need to know about than put the incident to the back of your mind and pretend it never happened?" he questioned with confusion, his voice probing with curiosity as if he knew not of the guidelines they were to follow. She looked up to face him, and she prayed to those in Valhalla that her orbs were looking into his as she nodded. Alina shifted uncomfortably beneath the heated gaze she knew was cast upon her, shamed she could not return the gesture.

"This small a lie will never accumulate into anything larger. It is foolish to-"

"Lies always turn to something greater." She bit back angrily, a knot slithering into her stomach. "They grow grander and darker until they are as wicked as the Jotun's. What good is a man if he cannot be trusted, if his word is valueless? " When her reply had ended, a deafening silence settled over the stables; neither horse nor man uttered a sound for the longest of moments.

Her sightless gaze sunk slowly to the floor, only to rest blindly at the hands which wrung themselves thoughtlessly in her lap. She regretted how harshly she had spoken to Erik, who in which had shown her nothing but humility she had long since been denied since the start of her service in the House of Odin. Many of times she had come to arguments of honesty amongst the maids, which usually ended in her teary-eyed rage and humiliation. Try as she may, though, she couldn't grow angry at the boy that stood beside her, hoping half-heartedly that he was saying these words only to save her from a punishment and not trying to throw her **_into_** one.

"I'm so-"

"Even the greatest of men can spin a fallacy." Came the tight response, the dry straw crinkling in disturbance as he began to drift into a stiff cadence of footfalls. One, two, **_three_**. One, two, **_three_**. One, two, **_three_**…

"True, but lies are also like the addictive lure of beauty; few can evade the poison that sets into their hearts from the dangerous fruit." She whispered, her head following the sound of his quickening pace.

Alina listened to every curve of his voice as the conversation bore on, wondering silently how one as young as he could have the coaxing voice of a Siren. The sounds that resonated from his lips were smooth and wondrous, though the presence of the viper that slithered upon his tongue also made her realize he could be as vicious as he was kind.

-X-

She had long since grown silent, and that troubled him.

He turned upon his heel to face her once more, only to find her sightless gaze set upon his face as if she could see him. He had to remind himself many of times that she was indeed blind, and she couldn't possibly see him. That did not take away from the fact that her gaze seemed to see too much.

"Do you find me wicked like the Jotun's?" Loki uttered, unnerved at how much that comment had stung. It stirred questions in which he never wanted to know the answers to within his heart; is that why none enjoyed his company? Because those around him found him dark and untrustworthy?

"I am not one to ask, for I have only but met you twice. You do not seem wicked." She whispered as she rose from her position upon the floor. He lurched forward to help her up, but the monarchy in him protested; she had gotten herself in that position, and she could stand perfectly well on her own. In so he watched as she got the balance to her footing, stumbling a few feet to catch herself upon the wall.

"Then why say such a thing?" he questioned as she felt her way along the smooth marble corridor. He watched as her curls bounced as she walked, a few strands of straw entangled within her hair at miscellaneous lengths.

"When you are blind, the only thing that you can rely on is the honesty of words. Beauty and possessions mean little, which I suppose is a good thing." He knew then that she was in search of the broken brush, watching as her gaze swept to the floor, though he knew the action would do no good in her hunt for the object.

"Well do you trust me?" he wondered quietly, following her slowly as she made her way closer to the grooming utensil. Not that her trust meant anything to him, he told himself, but he wished to know just the same. Her quest was paused, Alina turning to face him. Once again he was forced to look away from those cloudy blue eyes as they seemed to peer into his soul.

"I believe trust is earned, not simply given." She replied and Loki gritted his teeth; why must the one servant he chooses to talk to be so difficult?

"Then trust me this." He muttered, trying to keep the scowl from his voice as he flicked his wrist. The halves of the grooming brush lifted from their position and suspended midair, the broken ends conjoining as he raised his index finger. Splinters rejoined the wooden handle and the split slowly dissipated from existence, leaving the brush completely in tact as he rested it silently upon the floor. He smirked at how easily the magic had come and done his bidding, his hand once again resting at his side. "You are in need of no punishment, for the object is not broken."

"You ask me to trust you when you speak such a lie?" she muttered incredulously, turning away from him to search upon the ground. His smirk turned into a mischievous grin as she found the brush in one piece, a gasp fluttering past her rosy lips.

"How…" she wondered aloud, feeling over the object with a puzzled look.

"Even what we think is truth can sometimes be a lie, Alina. I think it's all about… perspective."

-X-

"How long have you been in service?" he questioned, lying comfortably in a mound of straw as she worked. Enok pressed his large head into the prince's lap as Loki pet his muzzle tenderly, watching the girl as she brushed the horse's midnight coat. Loki smiled as the stallion nudged into his caress, hot breath pluming onto his hand from flared nostrils as he pet the horse to its liking.

"This evening marks my twenty-fifth night." She muttered absently, running the brush over the muscular flank. Dark hair floated gently to the ground with each tender stroke she gave, pursing her lips as she continued with his other side.

"Does it get lonely? Working unaccompanied?" he questioned, watching her graceful movements as she groomed his horse lovingly.

"At times." She spoke truthfully, returning to the soft lullaby she had previously been humming. He watched her curiously as she finished, navigating the room with expertise to replace the brush upon a small wooden stool that sat idly in the grad chamber. "So what do you work as? I'm assured you do not simply lounge around the castle all day." She said with a coy smile.

"Of course not." For the first in many times of his life, he was thoroughly pleased he was a Silvertongue. "I tend to the princes. I would even venture to say I am rather close to Prince Loki." He had to suppress the urge to laugh as he talked about himself in such a way, relishing in the half-truth of his statement.

* * *

Hey guys! Sorry for the short chappie; I'm moving and they're taking my computer away so it'll be hard to update. But I will try!

Thanks for all the awesome reviews! Love ya guys!

(P.S. ... Reviews are like Bifrosts and rainbows guys... I love em... And it also wills me to dish these chappes out quicker... *Cough*)

~ILJA~


	3. Outrage

"You boys are pigs." Sif hissed between clenched teeth, flipping a bundle of blond locks over her left shoulder. Thor and Fandral, who both had been commenting on the attractiveness of maids as they passed, looked back with mischievous smiles. Fandral the Dashing was the first to speak, using his most coaxing of voices to avoid the young warrior's anger.

"Fear not, Lady Sif, for your beauty surpasses all those around you and make all other maidens seethe in self-loathing." Hogun, who had been listening to the entire conversation, rolled his dark eyes in annoyance. Volstagg, who was chewing furiously into a mutton leg, snickered.

"Oh, please." she growled, sharpening her dagger with a metallic screech so horrid all flinched at the obnoxious sound. Loki, who had been in the process of making a budding flower bloom, broke his concentration from the vegetation before him to turn to the commotion. He caught sight of Sif just as she began to storm off, with the Warriors Three and his brother in tow.

"I see my brothers charms have done wonders on you, Lady Sif." He muttered slyly as she passed, the blond turning on her heel to face him as the wet grass beneath her feet tore from their roots with a soft 'rip'. A look of pure fury spread across her features as his began to curl into an impish grin. "He's quite the fascinator, is he not? I see the jealousy nearly pour from you when he looks at other mindless strumpets. There's no need to be shy; many cannot resist his allures."

"I don't know of what you speak, your highness." She spat as the four males finally caught up to her destination. Due to the scorching heat of the sun they bickered beneath, the blush that rose to her cheeks could easily be misread as a reaction to the weather. Loki, though, was not easily fooled, and laughed as the girl before him tried to mask her embarrassment with anger. Thor looked to Loki with his left brow raised in question, for the quartet caught only half of Sif's stiff response.

"Oh, I think you do." Emerald eyes flashed to the stormy blue of his elder brothers, who looked back with utter confusion, along with the Warriors who stood puzzled beside him. A warm breeze passed through the trees, rattling in the tense silence. 'Oh, they can't all be this daft, can they?'

"What is this you speak of, brother?" If not for the great opportunity of mischief, the dark prince would have already left in a huff of inconceivability. But seeing as though he could not pass up such an opportunity, he merely laughed as the red on the blond girls face burned.

"You mean beside the fact that Lady Sif is completely enamored with you? Well, your utter stupidity could be counted, along with the fact that women should not be judged solely on the size of their…" Loki paused in the swift moment of the awkward phrasing. "Assets."

"What do you speak of? Lady Sif has rather nice as-" a swift blow to the gut from Hogun silenced his robust companion. Volstagg glared back at the smaller boy with annoyance, while Fandral snickered all the while. Sif, who had been evading the Thunderer's probing gaze, grit her teeth as she choked down her embarrassment.

"You're despicable" Sif cursed through her teeth before storming off, the look of utter shock never leaving the four boy's faces as they watched her leave. Loki smiled before shouting after her.

"No, Lady Sif. I merely pay attention!"

* * *

"Brother! Join in combat with us!"

Loki rolled his eyes for, after nearly ten minutes of begging, one as short tempered as Thor would usually give up and leave. But no; today of all days his idiot brother wished for him to stop his important skill training to join in combat with those who would rather see him fall from the Bifrost than be in their midst. Closing the massive, leather clad novel with a sigh, Loki stroked the ancient cover before glaring at his brother, who towered over his sitting frame.

"Why in the Nine Realms would I join in training with daft, predictable oafs? Give me a challenge, and perhaps maybe one day I shall consider." And with that Loki opened the tome to its saved place and returned to his reading, a warm breeze passing by him as the tree he sat beneath quivered as its leaves were ruffled by the wind.

He was all too aware of his brother, who no longer said a word but was remaining as a silent soldier but two feet from the tips of his leather shoes. He tried to tone him out completely, when suddenly Thor's breath became – purposefully- louder, meant to annoy the boy who needed silence to study. With an irritated growl Loki propped the book upon his knees, furrowing deep into the literature only to surpress a groan as Thor grew closer, looking down at his brother over his novel. Be it grunting, shifting his weight more than necessary, or simply standing there, he knew he would be able to grab the attention of his sibbling, and he was correct! With an irritable hiss Loki clapped the tome shut, clenching his eyes tight as he pinched the bridge of his nose before sighing.

"If it means that I will return without any interruption, I will agree to g- THOR! PUT ME DOWN, YOU OAF!" The kicked animal look that had previously captivated the demi-god's features was now replaced with a look of triumph and gloating, Thor happy to have gotten what he wanted. Without hesitation he leant forward, plucking the lean boy from the grass by his torso and flunging him over his right shoulder with little effort, knowing he had to make haste lest his brother change his mind. Secretly he liked it when his brother was near, knowing that he would speak truth to him when the Warriors and Sif resisted on ruffling his feathers.

Though Loki thrashed like a caged animal, kicking and clawing at him with rage, the blond noticed the simplicity of his carry. "This is why you must come to training, brother." Thor laughed as Loki realized escape was futile, breathing a sigh of relief when no one was near to see the spectacle. "You are far too easy a load!"

"Do you truly wish to die this young, brother?" came the low reply.

* * *

"So Lady Sif has affections for me?"

"Isn't it obvious? Oh wait, it was. No wonder you didn't catch it."

"Loki..."

"I'm simply toying with you brother."

"... You don't have to come, brother. I know the room stirrs horrid memories for you... It certainly does for me..."

"You don't need to coddle me Thor. I'm not a child."

"No, but you are my little brother."

"None the less, I shall be fine."

"... Loki-"

"Come now. Your friends await."

"Our friends."

"... Our friends..."

* * *

To say Sif and the Warriors Three were shocked to see the black-haired boy, especially after the morning incident, was an understatement. Sif, who flipped a blond braid over her shoulder, stopped mid-bludgening upon a wooden elf decoyto look in confusion, then annoyance, at the youngest Odinson's arrival. The Warriors Three, who had been watching Sif and critiquing her blows, looked to Loki, who hadn't looked up from the floor, as if he were a stranger. Fandral, who realized his gawking and shook his head to throw off the shock, was the first to speak with a playful smile.

"Well well! Look at who finally came to practice!" When Thor looked to his brother with a hearty smile when there was not reply, Fandral continued. "Finally given up on that foolish sorcery to train for what really matters?"

"Actually, I convinced my brother to join us! Isn't it wonderful!" Thor thundered with a laugh, clasping the latter so hard on the back the smaller boy nearly lost his footing. With a roll of her blue eyes, Sif leant upon the hilt of her blade.

"It seems he is in need of it." She muttered beneath her breath, causing a snicker to ring through the Warriors Three. Loki, who bit his tongue to keep a curse from passing between his lips, turned the tables.

"We shall see who is need of training, won't we?"

* * *

For their words, he expected more of a fight. Of course, they blamed his magic for their losses. 'If he fought like a true warrior would, he would fall beneath our power! But he cheats using his charms!' But was that not the warrior code? To fight to the best of ones ability?

Though he hated to admit it, Sif nearly got the best of him. She wasn't as careless and lacking in strategic skills as the Warriors Three, for she actually thought through her actions. Her blows were sure and strong. Her will not to make a fool of herself even stronger. But just as the others, at the moment when one would think Loki would surrender, he laughed, giving a bewitched blow that would send one flying back, unarmed and breathless.

Thor, laughing at his friend's misfortunes, pushed off from his lingering stance upon the wall to pay a quick glance to Sif, who kept her gaze cast down and joined Hogun and Fandral - for Volstagg was away, eating away his shame no doubt - in the spectators perch that lay about twenty feet above the small arena that gave a marvelous view of the room.

Though the training bay - which was located in the largest of the golden columns that adorned the Asgardian palace - was great enough to house most of the servants, it was dwarfed dramatically in size to its kin, which lay just beyond the palace walls. The magnificent golden amphitheater, which was speculated to be able to hold all of the citizens of Asgard, put all but the palace to shame when it came to its boisterous beauty. With thick, strong walls made of the finest of elements, it was impervious to any damage that lay within its fortifications, making it the ideal tournament area. Countless rows of marble seating lined the barriers of the great dome, and high thrones were placed near the mouth of the arena, giving the perfect view of the innumerable battles to be watched.

The bay was constructed much like the theatre, though the seating was replaced by lookouts that speckled the cylindrical room which reached out of the walls and allowed a clear view of the training below. The grandeur of the golden moldings and plethora of weapons were just the same as the arena, just the same as the bloodshed. Loki suppressed a shutter at the memory, instead letting a playful smile grace his lips as Thor slowly stalked his way toward the latter. His blue eyes flickered away, changing his course to creep towards the holding area that displayed his weapons of choosing.

"Are you ready for defeat, brother?" Thor asked mockingly as he slowly edged his way toward the large array of cleavers and battle hammers. Picking up the mallet that matched Mjolnier, the blonds future weapon of legend, he smiled back at his mischievous brother, whose spear was materializing in a soft golden hue within his grasp. Loki chuckled.

"Come at me, brother."

* * *

Thor was a different challenge all together. When his moves lacked in strategy to combat Loki's mind, it came back tenfold in the brute strength as he attacked. The younger prince growled as a heavy cleaver nearly severed his head from his shoulders, his reflexes barely saving him from decapitation as the weapon lodged itself into the stone wall behind him. Thor laughed at the petrified expression on his brother's face, while in the same moment beaming at the praise he heard from Sif, Fandral, and Hogun.

"Mind your head, brother!" the blond said in a voice that teetered on sadistic, lost within the heat of combat. "Come on brother! Hit m-" Before the future prince could finish his sentence, a blue force emanated from the latter in a fit of energy, throwing Thor back against the wall with a sickening _'crack'_ to leave an indentation within its once smooth surface. After a moment to register what had just happened, the blond peeled himself from the wall, glaring at the emerald-eyed boy, who laughed in satisfaction as the Fandral and Sif growled in unison.

"Hit me brother." Loki said with his signature smirk plastered upon his thin lips, rage coiling within Thor's gut like a viper before he twisted behind him to grasp a hammer, only to release it with all his might at the black-haired boy. As the weapon whistled as it was somersaulting through the air, the blond felt a ripple in the air around him as he sensed magic manifesting itself behind him. In his left hand he grabbed the hilt of an axe, throwing it behind him just in time to see his brother flicker from existence in front of him.

"OH! You fell for it!" Loki cooed as Thor turned to see the prince perched upon one of the over-seeing balconies, Sif, Fandral, and Hogan looking on in confusion as the young prince clapped. The thunderer growled.

"What? Don't like my little parlor trick?" asked another, who walked from behind a mighty marble pillar, his arms clasped behind his back and pacing to the third clone, who leant coolly against a rack of spears. More and more appeared until there were seven all together, six circling Thor as the seventh still resided on its perch.

"Come along, Thor! Which one of us is your real brother?"

"Oh don't stand there looking dense. Choose!"

"Try and show me what 'real power' is."

"Not so scary now, are you?"

"CHOOSE!"

The clones began to chide with fervor as Thor's rage kept building, his eyes never leaving the Loki on the balcony. At last he threw his weapon, watching it crawl closer to the figure before moving through it, the clone vanishing with a flicker.

"Wrong!" snickered another as Thor roared with fury as he swung another hammer at the Loki who had spoken, the figure evaporating from existence as well.

"Loki, fight me! Stop hiding behind this childish banter!" Thor rumbled, and the smiles that had once elated the remaining five's faces vanished. Four of them exited from reality with a golden glow, but the fifth, who had been behind him all along, nudged a spear into his brother's back. The blond tensed as he realized the mistake of his words.

"Childish banter?" Loki spat, lowering his weapon to rest weakly at his side, the staff emanating a solid _'thunk'_ as it connected with the ground. He stalked to face his elder with hate dripping from his emerald gaze as they flickered about the room. This cursed room. This horrible room… "It is not banter, brother. Strength will not always let you succeed."

"Never let your guard down, brother." Thor muttered coldly before he punched the raven-haired boy in the chest, knocking him down with an ache in his lungs. How dare he embarrass him within his domain! How dare he act as though he ruled here!

Loki choked for breath as his head connected harshly with the ground, Sif and the now the complete set of boys chuckled as the younger prince's gaze swam in darkness. Thor towered over his frame, pain pluming through his chest as if he were stabbed. When the dark-haired boy looked p there were two blonds glooming down at him, his vision fizzing into a static blackness.

"Finish him off Thor!" Sif shouted coldly.

Loki grit his teeth as he knew his vanity had, once again, been reduced to nothing at the hand of his brother, his hate boiling along with the pain in his chest. He saw Thor draw closer as the reproaches from the Warriors Three grew louder, sifting through his mind for the spell that would deflect the impending attack he was anticipating. When he finally chose his spell, he parted his lips to speak the charm that would send his oaf of a sibling flying back, only to be interrupted by another malicious shout.

"Come on Thor! Show him what real strength is!"

"N-no more… brother please…" he was able to say through clenched teeth as the blurry shadow turned back to him, only to be answered by Hogun.

"No mercy Thor! Defeat him as you would any other opponent!"

"Listen to him grovel. Pathetic!" Came Fandral's mocking reply.

Every time he went to say the spell, his concentration was shattered by another onslaught of insults, his vision clearing in the slightest to only see a smile upon his brother's face. Loki's blood ran cold, trying to calm his ragged breath as he knew what was to come.

_**"Arcina fancisco, neo de-"**_

"Bash that hammer into his face!"

"Come on Thor!"

"Look at him! Trying to escape! Do it now Thor!"

**_"Des pirandum, esiada en-"_**

"What are you doing, Thor?!"

He saw something quickly impending toward his face, and the wrong words sprung from his lips, the world suddenly churning so sickeningly slow that Loki could see everything in great detail, his vision clearing as he was frozen to his place.

Thor was knocked back alright – four paces away and on the floor, writhing in agony as screams ripped from his soul like a tortured animal. The outstretched hand – which was moving to aid, not to harm him as Loki had thought – was jerking spastically, smacking against the floor along with his body, which arched and tremored. His cries resonated painfully in the dark-haired boy's cranium as this situation played out again in his mind, all too familiar.

He didn't know when he did it, but suddenly he was as his brother's side, kneeling beside his head as his hands waved over the writhing frame to assess the damage he had inflicted with horror. Then abruptly – forcefully – he was thrown from his brother's side and, stiff from shock, his frame tumbled. All he heard were shouts and mangled cries, and he wasn't quite sure if it was his own or not.

Loki clamored to his feet, ready to scramble to his siblings aid when Sif's head snapped up, her gaze seething with such a loathing it made even the prince flinch. "Don't you DARE come near him again! You monster, look at what you've done!"

"I-i-I didn't mean to! It was an accident! I-" Loki was babbling as Hogun and Volstagg ran from the room, going to fetch aid. Thor's thrashing head was in Sif's lap as she stroked the side of his head, Fandral trying desperately to keep Thor's body from jerking. He was whispering some words to Thor, and then hissing something to Sif, the rage in her eyes only growing hotter.

"No! I will not calm down! This is a wondrous situation, isn't it? How convenient! He was jealous of his brother as he is Thor! He's just trying to kill Thor off as he did Balder, Fandral! It's as simple as that!"

Thor's thrashing seemed to stop for the slightest of moments as the air from the room seemed to evaporate, Fandral and the prince staring wide eyed at the girl who had dared utter those words. "L-L-Lo-ok…kI…" he was able to choke out before his body began thrashing again, his outstretched hand once more reaching for his kin.

This time Loki didn't react to the blonde's reaction, his gaze boring into the dark gaze of Sif, whose eyes now held fear as the prince began to shake with first hurt, then with rage and anger. The blue force was out again, pulsating around his figure as then it began to turn dark red, his limp hand balling into a tight fist as air hissed past his clenched teeth. Tears fell over the brim of his eyes and Fandral gasped, ducking just in time to avoid a sudden, blinding flash directed toward Sif, who was too paralyzed to move in time to escape the blast.

By the time the sandy blond looked at his surroundings, Sif's prized golden mane was singed black and was barely past her shoulders. She was screaming out in horror at the sight, Thor now unconscious within her lap as Fandral heard Hogun and a healer crash through the door. He whipped his head to look to the prince, but all that was left was a misty, dark smoke that became non-existent before anyone could notice his absence.

* * *

He hadn't visited her.

This was now the third night of his absence, and now she was beginning to get worried. She knew it was useless to worry, knowing that he was most likely safe, but still the mystery gnawed at her. He had said he would come back the next night, didn't he?

Alina sighed.

What else was she to expect? Did she really expect friendship? That he would actually care about what she said?

No one else did, so why should he be any different?

* * *

How was that guys? I promise, a Loki and Alina scene in the next chappie. And also, get your tissues ready. Gonna get some brotherly moments. :D

Please type a reply and read on fellow readers! Happy Thors day!

~ILJA~


	4. Words

_He remembered being frozen to the spot as his brother fell upon his knees; the dagger plunged in the center of his chest to come out bloodied out his back…_

_"Balder…"_

_All that came out in reply was a strangled cry as blood trailed from the corner of his mouth as the youngest fell to his side, twitching._

_"Loki!"_

_Loki couldn't answer, his eyes unable to leave from his brother as his sibling's tremors ceased - the life, along with his blood, slowly ebbing from his body._

_"BALDER!" _

_It was Thor's guttural scream that set him in motion, his tight muscles suddenly live-wire as he found himself running to his brother's side, only to get ripped back by the dark-hooded healers, their cloaks blocking his view from his fallen kin._

_"Get them out now… Don't let them see…"_

_Oh, but Loki saw everything, and such things could never be unseen…_

_"BALDER! Let me go! By the Gods, let me go! Balder!"_

_He was thrashing at the cloaked man, trying to get beneath his grasp as they began to swiftly usher the petrified children from the training bay, but not before hearing the words that would alter his life._

_"He's gone… How are we to tell the Allfather that his youngest has died?"_

_He saw the tips of their hoods above the man's shrouded arm turn to face him, unknowing that his presence was still in the room as the prince stood, paralyzed against the demanding movements of the healer._

_"No…"_

_And that's when he began to run…_

He sprung up from his position upon his bed, his chest heaving and his eyes scanning his dark surroundings. His heart beat like an army of galloping horses; sweat sheeting his skin as he sniffed. He wiped away the perspiration and tear mixture from beneath his eyes, rubbing his face repeatedly before laying back in bed. He stared at the blackness of the ceiling for countless moments, furrowing deeper into the bed.

The nightmares had kept him up for days, leaving him more disheveled and depressed than the day before. He wondered off-handedly if Gods could go insane with lack of sleep, but the thoughts were quickly replaced with the need to arise from the bed, his body stiff from his absence of mobility. He tilted his head from side to side, hearing the loud popping noises come from his neck to flex his fingers, which mirrored the sound. Though his body longed for sleep, he knew what waited for him, and insomnia was a far better choice to make.

With a groan he tossed the sheets from his body, his skin pricking from the cool rush of air over his bare legs and arms. He lay there, debating on whether or not to continue for another long moment before he willed himself out of bed, sighing as his overheated feet came in contact with the smooth, cool floor. His mind numb, he dragged himself to the window, keeping his gaze from the full-body mirror as he passed by the open doors to peer over on the balcony.

The wind whipped slightly at his unkempt hair, forcing him to slick it back in its usual position, only for it to once again fly into his face. With an agitated sigh he gave up, choosing instead to lean on the alabaster balcony to overlook Asgard. Even in his half-dazed state, he could not deny the splendor of the shimmering kingdom, painted white beneath the hue of the moon, which happened to be out in full brilliance. If any other time, he would have beamed at his father's land, but he couldn't bring himself to do so.

He winced, remembering how Balder loved to accompany him some nights to look at the golden buildings glow by the firelight in the darkness when the moon was nowhere to be found. His heart contracted in his chest as he remembered his brother, vibrant and curious, asking him questions of the Nine Realms that he himself did not know the answers to. Though he loved to read in the beginning, it heightened after Balder grew older, asking all the more complex questions, and -never wishing to disappoint- Loki found himself forever in the library, surrounding himself with knowledge.

He pushed off from the ledge with a huff, stomping back into his quarters and flicking his wrist, causing the doors to the outside to clamor shut. He paced about, his steps reverberating in the stony silence he concocted within the room. A million thoughts raced into his tired mind, forming into one incoherent thought after another. He was completely confused; he didn't know whether to cry or to laugh, whether to be happy or agonized. All he knew was that he needed to talk to someone, lest he lose his sanity. One who wouldn't judge his every word and twist them.

And he knew exactly the girl who fit his need.

* * *

"I was beginning to think you had forgotten me."

The hinges creaked as he slowly shut the door behind him, his feet dragging sluggishly across the floor and toward her direction, though he did not grow near. The smile vanished from her lips when she heard him sigh tiredly, leaving them again in stony silence. She wondered off-handedly if he was doing this on purpose; if he knew how much she hated hush. She brushed that thought aside, though. 'He came back, did he not?' She turned her head in his direction.

"Well, how do you fair?"

Again, nothing. Was it really him, or just another? No, it had to be – though it was many of times slower, his waltz-like pace was immediately recognizable. Why, then, was he not answering her?

"Did I do something to upset you?" she asked quietly, and she heard the feet on the floor shuffle, more so away from her than closer. Her brow furrowed as she heard one of the prince's horses –was it Thor's?- neigh quietly before huffing in frustration. She ground her teeth, moving fluidly across the stables to grab a bucket of feed.

"Don't get him excited – it took me most of the night just to calm him. Stroke him along the nose, he likes that." She replied shortly, knowing how hard it was to get that one to quiet. It was just like his master – boisterous and loud.

"I know…" She was shocked at the complete lack of life in his voice, nearly dropping the pail.

"What's wrong with you, Erik?" she asked evenly, though a million thoughts ran rampant through her brain. Was he harmed? Was that why he hadn't been there in over a week?

There was another long silence, and suddenly she found herself by his side as he spoke. "Do you have a cure for nightmares?" Came the monotone question, and her eyes grew wide. Nightmares? Was that what plagued him?

"W-well… I usually just suffer through them. I talk to the horses when I've had an exceptionally bad one…" She whispered, knowing full well of the horrors she had conjured. She suppressed a shudder, lifting her unseeing gaze from the floor to him –she hoped- with a sympathetic look upon her features.

There was another long pause before he started slow again.

"I needed to talk to someone I could trust…"

Now the silence came from her side.

How was she supposed to react to that? How could he trust her in such a short period of time? Why her? Why no-

"Please… they're getting worse…" Those words snapped her back into reality.

"U-um… can you tell me about them? If… If it doesn't pain you too much to speak about them…" No response. "If you tell another, you may feel better…" Once again, the dreaded silence. She sighed. "How can you trust me if you can't at least tell me this, Erik?" She heard him shift on his heel again.

"I… I recount my brother's death…"

* * *

_Thousands, if not millions of candles floated gracefully into the heavens, their soft glow illuminating the dark to get lost in the array of stars that dotted the sky. Balder smiled, reaching up upon his toes to look over the terrace as his brothers looked out easily upon the alabaster balcony. Thor, noticing his brother's frustration, plucked him from the ground to mount him on his shoulders, leaving Balder to look at the spectacle in awe. Thor tilted his head up to look to the child perched upon his shoulders with a satisfied smile._

_"How do you enjoy the Celebrations of the Gods, brother? Fascinating, is it not?" he would ask gently, Thor's eyes sneaking to Loki, who watched the release of the countless numbers of lights stoically, then to look up at his youngest kin. As the wind nipped softly at their hair, the boy giggled, his sky blue gaze locked on the display. He would nod quickly._

_"How do they float?" he would ask curiously, causing Thor and Loki to look between them with unknowing glances._

_"I shall ask father tomorrow. But for now, we must ready ourselves for the festivities, lest we draw out father's anger." The emerald eyed boy would reply with a sigh, and push off from the railing to stalk back quietly into his room. Thor turned his head, watching his brother slink into the darkness of his chambers, his brow furrowing. Balder, on the other hand, looked back with a muted look of sorrow on his face._

_"But I like the floating lights brother… I don't want to go…" he would reply sulkily, which made Thor chuckle and turn back. He breathed in a sigh, the cool night air filling his lungs. Slowly he dismounted his brother from his shoulders, chuckling as he saw Balder's bottom lip jutting out in a pout._

_"We better do as he says. We do not want to encourage father's wrath, now do we?"_

_"But we were having such a good time… Why does Loki do nothing against the will of father?" he whined, annoyed. Thor sighed._

_"I know not, brother, but if he didn't, I'm sure the Allfather would have had our hides by now. But that's just between you and I. Now come along; we don't want to be late."_

* * *

He had remembered waking up on many of occasions to find himself surrounded by well-wishers and nurses, basking in the moment while his body was numbed by the healers. Frigga had been there most often, accompanied by Odin on occasion to see how their oldest was faring. He vaguely remembered Sif and the Warriors Three standing beside his bed, but he could not remember how often they had been there – it could have been once or a dozen times, yet the memories all flushed together. The others in the high court had come to see him as well, yet he couldn't quite place the hazed and nameless faces that wished him a swift recovery. The one in which he had so wished to see – Loki – was not there, yet perhaps he was somehow relieved in that fact; how could he face him when he knew how much guilt bore upon his young shoulders?

Thor had not blamed him, for he knew it was a mere mistake. Granted that mistake could have easily costed him his life, yet it hadn't. He couldn't remember how many times he had asked the nurses or his mother where his sibling was, but he did remember he had always gotten the same answer before he was thrust back into unconsciousness.

"Loki's been hidden away for days; none have seen him."

A similar thing had happened when Balder… He shuttered. Loki had locked himself in his room for nearly two months, and when he immerged he was changed. Colder and more distant, he furrowed himself in the library, refusing to step even a foot near the training arena. Whenever he would speak to him – which he hadn't done much of after their youngest brother's departure to Valhalla – it was riddled and complex, and always with a hint of something shy of seething. Hogun had called it denial, but Thor knew better.

Thor knew Loki had never, and would probably never forgive himself for what he had done to their youngest kin. 'The Accident', which it was known to be called, had changed him, morphed him, made him an outcast amongst those who wished only to love him. The light-hearted, curious, emerald-eyed boy he had once played knights with was whisked away, turned into one of trickery and mischief – 'for that's all I seem to be good at' he recalled Loki murmuring beneath his breath.

"Brother…" He whispered hoarsely, the nurses fluttering past him as he delved back into the world of unconsciousness.

* * *

"You need to stop fighting it Erik – you need to speak with him or it will truly drive you mad!"

"Perhaps I am already at that point." He spat in her direction, and cringed, not meaning to direct his loathing at her. What was he saying? She was a servant girl! Perhaps he truly was beginning to unravel…

He looked to her, but her expression never faltered from her furrowed concern. Those blind eyes bore upon him, pleading and sympathetic, forcing him to look away in guilt. He did not deserve her compassion, even if she was only a mere help. Something within him told him he shouldn't feel such an emotion over some stable hand, yet that thought was washed away in the sea of incoherence that threatened to swallow him whole.

"This only makes it more dire that you see him. Insomnia is not good, Erik, and how can you be in the presence of the Prince's when your speech is so slurred you sound as if you've drunken three bottles of wine!" Her words became heated now, flowing from her rosy lips with fervor. "You stagger about on your feet and have the emotional span of a drunkard! You're drunk Erik – drunk on your foolishness and self-loathing! You, blessed with sight, should be able to see what is so clearly in front of you! Pity and self-loathing get you nowhere – make peace with those you have hurt and make peace with your past. It is the only way you can move onward."

"So simple to say, but so difficult to do! You know nothing, just like the rest of these mindless servants who parade about acting as if they knew the secrets of the universe! Only those weak of heart would do such a thing, and I refuse to be weak! I refuse to-"

And that's when it happened.

The hard slap of the contact of their skin was heard throughout the suddenly hushed stables, resonating through the space like a shadow. His face, twisted to the right in shock, withheld a mask of surprise as his hand lifted to his reddening cheek, the stinging sensation blooming across the surface with heat. His eyes snaked to her, watching as her form trembled in rage, her hand slowly returning to her side as her fingers curled into a tight fist. After a moment of confusion came the sudden lucidity, then the anger as he snarled, his body whipping to her frame in an instant, pinning her to the wooden walls with a small splintering of wood as her form made contact. Blind with rage, his fist connected with the fortification mere inches from her face.

She did not flinch.

"How dare you strike me! You indolent girl! I'll have your neck for such treason!" He spat with malice, lifting his hand to strike her back. Her head, twisted away in wait for the attack, was emotionless, though hot tears began to stream down her face. She said nothing, and did nothing, her breath shaky as she refused to rest her sightless gaze upon him, and yet that infuriated him even more. How dare she speak so boldly! How dare she-

And that's when he saw it – the dark crimson substance began to stream down the length of her neck, traveling farther south until it fell again into the recesses of her linen shawl. There, in the dim lights of the scattered torches mounted about the place, he could see the silvery indent of a fresh scar, almost a month old… How…

Guilt began to plague him like a vice, constricting about his heart as his hand went to limply lie at his side, the fight all drawn from his system. He let out a shaky breath; he had not meant to harm her. She had done nothing but to speak truth to him and in his stupor he harmed her… He seemed to be doing quite a good job at that as of late… He never meant to harm but when he did not think he had only brought destruction… He shifted away from her, watching as she relaxed against the wall at his retreat. He cringed.

"Alina… Forgive me please… I wasn't thinking… I-"

"You're quite correct…" she whispered, her voice so lifeless it frightened him. Her sightless gaze snaked to him, persecuting him with their silence. "You weren't thinking… And neither was I… Leave me Erik… Just… leave me in my solitude."

"Alina, I-"

"I will not hear it!" She fumed, the tears spilling from her eyes with fervor now, unabashed. He was taken aback, flinching as if she had struck him once more. By his mother had he only heard that shrill tone; hurt and angry. "If you wish not to hear the truth, than do not waste your breath on me! Do not ask for help if you only shove it away in return!" She was rushing away from him now, and he could see the wet dampness of blood shimmer gruesomely from her dark, messy locks. His feet jolted to move to her, to help her, yet he was struck cold, unable to move. While she left him alone, disappearing into the darkness of the confines of the stables, he realized it was not his assault that left her reeling, but his words.

Words, as she had said once, were all she had to go by. Words and actions told the true story of a man… And words could either confine him or set him free…

* * *

Okies... so I've been trying to put this up for like over a week -.- You guys seen how well that worked out.

Please read on my fellow fanfictioners; some brotherly angst in the next chappie :D

~ILJA~


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